The reborn concubine becomes a concubine

Chapter 122
The cell in the capital was dark and damp, filled with a pungent sour smell and a strong smell of rust. The yamen servant who delivered the food performed this boring job day after day, which showed that his temper was not very good.

"What are you grabbing! Everyone has a share... Be honest! Do you want to be whipped!" He cursed and gave out food all the way down, until he reached a wooden fence where a single criminal was closed, and tapped it with a wooden spoon, "It's time to eat .” He scooped out a spoonful of meal mix and poured it into a bowl by the door.

"Brother, is today's meal still bad?" the person inside asked, his voice was a little hoarse, but still pleasant.

"Eat it while it's not rotten." This is a code word. "It's rotten" and everything is business as usual. If it's "not rotten", there is a situation.

Han Xian looked at the movement around him, half-climbed to the fence, and said in a low voice, "I didn't expect such a prince to come out halfway, and now, I'm afraid I won't be able to survive."

"After drinking, we can go on the road..." the yamen servant said, taking a jug of wine and putting it in. Although Han Xian knew his end, he didn't expect to come so soon, but Gao Fei died, and the people he cared about died too. It seems that there is no need to exist.

After the yamen servant left, Han Xian silently held the mouth of the bottle and opened it.It just so happened that it was his favorite sweet-scented osmanthus stuffing—I will meet Yingqi soon, will you wait for me on the Naihe Bridge?

The coagulation of the blood made his body colder, Han Xian seemed to be watching the lights, as if the scenes of his life reappeared before his eyes, including when Han Yingqi died - he could do nothing but hug the cold body. Even if a cup of loess and two joss sticks drown him, Yingqi, you want to come to this capital the most, and you will be born here from now on, so you don’t have to suffer in the next life...

He remembered that when Yingqi first met, Yingqi was not yet ten years old, and he was just a servant's child. Diet and daily life, one stitch at a time, not bad at all.

Later, when his family was in decline and his relatives and servants dispersed, Han Yingqi told him that there was no one in his family, but he knew nothing but reading. Han Yingqi is much better, and even his voice has become more at ease, "Don't be afraid, Yingqi, don't be afraid... There is me, you and me... from now on we...we will be brothers..."

Regardless of Han Yingqi's objection, he chopped firewood and carried goods, and did all the work he could do. No matter how hard and tiring he was, seeing that fair face and kind smile, he felt that everything was worth it.

Poor Yingqi, who is obviously three years older than him, why do I feel sorry for him so much, probably because he is the only person who makes me feel warm. I was despised and scolded by others since I was a child, and I thought I could only live like this Live a lifetime, but met Yingqi, the only person who can warm him...

The man's gentle tone is addictive:
"Axian, follow my surname from now on, okay?"

"Ah Xian... Let me teach you to read poetry, okay... The fat water flows eastward for an endless period, back then it was not suitable for the kind of lovesickness..."

"I don't want you to work so hard. I will definitely be the No. [-] scholar. Then we can be like before."

"Axian, you got hurt again, look at your face..."

"Don't go to places like Nanfeng Pavilion, okay...promise me..."

"I'm fine... Axian, I... I'm fine cough cough..."

"Xian'er, my Xian'er, I can't seem to be with you anymore..."

"..."

Han Xian only felt dizzy, his pupils shrank suddenly, tears slid down his beautiful face, but it was no longer warm, his white palms were tightly grasping the straw under his body, he had to admit that slowly feeling the process of his own death, or It was scary, but fortunately, someone was waiting for him——Inge, here I come.

He saw the man's gentle smile and saw him stretch out his hand to him. With a smile on his lips, Han Xian followed his footsteps as before, "Master..."

... Who taught that the red lotus night every year, the two meditations know each other. (Quoted from "Partridge Sky" Jiang Kui)
(End of this chapter)